


Coming Home

by PuzzleBot



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Flowers, Fluff, LDR, M/M, Sad gays, happy gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8783593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzleBot/pseuds/PuzzleBot
Summary: Desmond goes to work.





	

Desmond had never wanted to go, but work had called him away - something urgent, apparently - and he was told to be there or risk losing his job. He hadn’t wanted to leave Vincent alone for however long it would be - work also didn’t want him bringing anyone with him to such a remote, hazardous place - and it made him terribly sad to leave him that morning. They’d pushed their time before he had to leave for the airport to the limit, snuggling and sharing careful, gentle embraces all morning.

The first few days had been alright. Every night - London time - Desmond had called up during his short amount of time off to speak to Vincent. They exchanged affections, laughs, adoring words… But it wasn’t quite the same. He missed the feeling of Vincent’s arms around him, being able to share his latest drawing with him, or simply curl into his hold when he was feeling down, and - by God - did he feel down a lot during that time. As the days went on, the conversations became more frequent, longer, but… Quieter. Desmond called up when he was at the hotel, trying to sleep. He just needed the sound of Vincent’s voice to reassure him, the sound of his breath as he fell asleep.

Then, days merged, making long, hard weeks. The phone calls became less often again; Desmond was so unbearably busy. Sometimes he just didn’t have the time to call, no matter how much it hurt him. He still managed to talk as much as possible. Every moment he wasn’t working, he was on the phone to Vincent, reassuring him and sending as much love as he could through his words. He stayed on the phone for hours, falling asleep to the quiet sound of his love’s breath and waking up to his quiet voice. The phone bills were astronomical, but Desmond didn’t care, not if it meant hearing Vincent’s voice so often. It was towards the end of the second week that he started to truly feel this loneliness, and know that Vincent was taking it perhaps even worse than him.

“ _Please_ come home soon, Dessie…” Vincent had pleaded desperately - speaking through tears at the end of one of their conversations, “I can’t do this… _Please_ …”

“I’ll be home soon, sweet, I promise,” Desmond had earnestly promised, his voice breaking as he tried to hold back his own tears, “I’m trying as hard as I can. I love you so, so much…”

And try he did. Disregarding sleep, food, basic needs, until a fellow researcher made him take care of himself, Desmond worked frantically to finish finding everything the new location had to offer, but with each step forward, they seemed to take two back. By the end of week three, he was done. Not with the excavation, not with the research, but with the desperation in his boyfriend’s voice.

He quit. Just up and left; packed his bags and took the next flight home. He’d refused to admit it to himself the entire time he’d been away, but now he was coming home, he felt he could.

Leaving Vincent had been the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. It killed him to hear those tears and be thousands of miles away, not able to wipe them away, or hold him until they ceased. He missed the feeling of his hair; curly and just that bit too frizzy; his hands, with every small imperfection; his lips, so soft and full of adoration; his eyes, full to the brim with emotions. He missed every part of him and it was destroying him. So he took the flight home, and decided to surprise his love. During the flight, he allowed himself to cry; something he hadn’t let himself do properly since he left for the job.

When he landed, his first stop was a gift shop. He intended to make up for every moment they’d been apart, with every part of his being. He bought the largest, most extravagant bouquet - the most vibrant roses and lilies he could find - just as a token of how much he adored Vincent, of how much he’d missed him.

He was home before he knew it, and it was only then that he realised he didn’t have his keys. He sighed softly, then chuckled and smiled as he knocked at the door, hoping Vincent was home. The door opened slowly, almost suspicion in how it was looked out from. Seeing Vincent’s red eyes, his tired, almost unrecognising look, Desmond was filled with relief. He saw the smile that was on his face mirror itself on Vincent’s as the door was opened properly.

“D-Dessie…? It’s really you?” The taller man stammered, staring out and feeling tears come to his eyes, “Y-you’re not supposed to be back for another month…”

“It’s really me, Vince… I quit. I couldn’t be there anymore, we weren’t getting anywhere…” Desmond mumbled softly, grinning widely at his love. He went to continue, only to be cut off by his boyfriend pulling him into an almost crushing hug. “A-ah, Vince! You’re going to crush the flowers!” Desmond laughed, ignoring his own words as he hugged Vincent back tightly, feeling kisses pressed to every part of him that Vincent could reach.

“I missed you so much, my love…”

As Vincent spoke, Desmond found himself lifted from the ground by him, and carried inside. He laughed softly, trying to wipe away his own tears as he kissed back.

“I missed you too, sweet. I promise I’ll never leave you again; not for anything.” He whispered softly, blinking with surprise when he found himself on the sofa, still held tightly by Vincent.

“Thank you, Desmond… Thank you for coming home…”


End file.
